Silly Me? Why Haven't I found another
by lydiagrace
Summary: One-shot. Hermione finds herself at odds with her current boyfriend, and somehow in the arms of another. AU, etc. First HGSS fic!
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: This all belongs to the beautiful J.K. Rowling. I'll return the characters. (Or maybe I'll keep Snape ;)). _

_I made minor corrections changing buck to quid and a few grammatical things. _

_Thanks so much for reviews. This might turn into a full fledged story, but I'll see. _

* * *

"No, Ron, I don't have any extra money!"

"But Hermione, it's just a couple quid!"

"Don't you have your own money? Merlin!"

"No! I don't! And you know that!"

Ron slammed the door on his way out.

"Ron! I'm sorry!"

Hermione ran to the door, but he was already gone by the time she got there. She turned around and shut the door calmly, not wanting to make more of a scene that was already caused. She hit the door weakly, taking out her frustration on anything and everything that she could. Ron could get a job. Or save up money. But instead she ended up paying for everything, and then-some, loaning him money when he couldn't afford to pay for his whims. But here they were, and she was sick and tired of it. And she was still the bad guy.

Hermione grabbed her cloak and bag and headed to the library for some much needed distraction and little-needed studying. At least she knew that it was the last place Ron would be.

Upon entering the library, she looked around surreptitiously for anyone she might know, for she had worked herself into a tizzy on her way to the library, and was near tears. The last thing she needed right now was human contact or she'd risk crumbling into their arms.

On her way to the restricted section and a lone armchair that was located therein, she bumped into a table and knocked over piles of books that surrounded what she assumed to be a struggling first year. Any other day she would have offered to help them, or at least picked up the books, but today she couldn't be bothered.

When she finally settled in her chair with a book, pretending to read, she closed her eyes and let her head fill with thoughts of Ron. They had been rocky lately, and his lack of finances and the resulting irresponsibility for his actions (or vice-versa) had just been another thing to add to the list. Maybe they weren't what she had hoped they would be. The idea that she would've been wrong hurt her more than the idea that their relationship was coming to an end. As tears formed in her eyes, she heard a noise behind her.

"Ah-hem"

"Please, just go away."

"Miss Granger, I believe it's past curfew. Will I be deducting ten points from Gryffindor tonight?"

She turned around and found herself face to face with the beloved Professor Snape. How lucky.

"Actually, as you should know, I'm a prefect, and thus the curfew hours don't apply to me. Nice try though." Hermione retorted with a sardonic smile.

"Well, luckily your sass has warranted the deduction of ten points anyway" Snape replied, almost gleefully.

With fresh, unwarranted tears welling in her eyes Hermione stood up to leave.

Snape was…uncomfortable to say the least, and struggled to find something to say.

"Miss Granger. You needn't cry over 10 points."

"That's not why I'm crying, you moron."

Snape was taken aback by her insult, something that a normal Hermione would have never dreamed of saying. But here she was, calling him a moron. While he was ruminating over this, he didn't realize that she had burst into tears.

Hermione started sobbing uncontrollably after insulting Snape; a detention was the last thing she needed and she was just so overwhelmed. Suddenly she was pulled into an awkward hug, and her hair was being petted comforting albeit hesitant and awkwardly.

As he held her in his arms, he wondered why Ron was such an ass. Of course Snape knew what Ron had did, legilimency did come in handy occasionally. But regardless of what it was, he hated seeing amazing young women full of promise being broken down like this, all over a stupid boy. As her tears subsided, he kissed her lightly on the forehead, feeling an affection and caring towards her that he had tried to avoid feeling towards…well…anyone. He is after all Severus Snape, and he does not feel affection. Period.

Did Snape just kiss the top of her head? She felt a rumble of butterflies in her stomach, and her heart jump up into her throat. Why? He was a teacher. He was Snape! She sniffled and looked up at him, he was looking off in the distance, seemingly deep in thought.

He felt her look up, but she didn't look away the way he expected her to. When he looked down their faces were millimeters apart. After staying like that for what seemed like hours, he reached up and brushed a stray tear off of her cheek.

"I suggest that you go to bed, Hermione." It was barely a whisper. He'd used her name, for the first time.

"Of course, Professor." She replied. She knew something should or shouldn't happen, but it had to. So she reached up and kissed him on the cheek, turned on her heel, and left the library.

She kissed him. On the cheek, of course. But still. It was a kiss. And it had made him feel more alive than anything else in recent memory. He sunk down into the chair that she had vacated, and realized that she had left her book.

"Well," he thought as he turned it over in his hands, "at least I have a reason to keep her after class tomorrow."


	2. Chapter 2

_Finally! Forgive me for taking so long! Hope you enjoy, reviews are greatly appreciated as always. _

_I'm glad that I got such a positive feedback with this story, thank you so much! :) _

* * *

The minute she left the library she broke into a sprint. Hermione ran to the Gryffindor common room, confused and excited all at the same time, her heart in her throat. Momentarily she had forgotten about Ron, about their problems; choosing instead to focus on the feelings of newfound affection bubbling in her stomach. Reality smashed this illusion as soon as she walked in the common room. Her smile quickly faded into a grimace, but not quite fast enough.

"Well, hello, Hermione."

"Ron!" she exclaimed, her voice almost reaching hysterics; a combination of what had just transpired and what she knew would be coming. The coldness in his voice echoed within her ears.

"Ron…" she said again, more calmly, hoping to assuage his temper.

"Where were you? And why do you look so _happy_? I've been sitting here guilty and nervous and feeling awful, and you have the nerve to look happy?" He said, coldness seeping into his normally warm and comforting voice. 'I guess I should be used to this by now...', she thought as she took a deep breath and began to speak.

"Ron, the world doesn't stop spinning just because we have a fight" was her reply, the same as a million times before. "I went to the library. I read to distract myself. Reading makes me happy". The tone of Hermione's short, clipped sentences bordered on condescension.

She was still standing by the entrance to Griffindor tower, just barely inside. Ron had been sitting by the fireplace, looking bizarrely like a mafia don, and she was too terrified to come closer. Now he covered the distance between them in four steps, thunderous in the quiet of the common room. He gazed into her eyes, inches from her face, with nothing but contempt in his own.

"Of course it does", venom dripped off the words, "You love reading more than me. And school. And your precious marks." Ron stopped the look of disgust momentarily and looked at her strangely. "What's that smell?" he said, face turning redder by the second, looking like he was nearing explosion. "What smell?" Hermione responded, alarmed at the sudden change of subject. "You smell different" he said thoughtfully. Suddenly realization dawned on his face, "You. Were. With. Someone. Else", his voice was low and steady. This newfound calmness was more unnerving than the anger that most certainly bubbled beneath.

Hermione took a deep breath, "Ron. I wasn't with anyone else." He didn't wait for her to finish her sentence, and was already up and into the boys' rooms. She didn't bother to go after him; nor did she want to. She was simply exhausted. Tired of the same fights, the monotonous jealousy. Everything about this was exhausting. And she needed to rest.

As she got ready for bed that night, her mind was in turmoil. Thoughts were warring against each other and she knew a good nights sleep would be the greatest casualty of this battle. She couldn't comprehend what had happened tonight with Snape. She'd broken down, and then he hugged her. A real hug. She didn't know Snape had it in him to have actual human contact. And then she'd kissed him on the cheek. Her face turned red with embarrassment, how could she look at him the same way ever again? How could she look at herself? Potions tomorrow would be treacherous. Something had shifted between them, shifted in the world, and it was irrevocable. Tomorrow it would only be apparent.

And she had to deal with the Ron problem tomorrow. Ron. Oh Ron. What was she going to do? Clearly neither of them was happy, but she knew that when they weren't fighting, it was easy to pretend that they were. And he was doing the same thing. He wouldn't let go because of their constant fighting and apparent misery.

Hermione laid down in bed that night, tears silently rolling down her cheeks. She made her choice, she just didn't know how to go about it.

* * *

Severus Snape was in shock. She had left him in the library, a book in his hands and a hole in his heart. What had just happened? How had it come to this? This isn't right. She's his student. Why did he hug her? Of course he knew why. He couldn't just let someone cry. Especially not over a boy. Especially when she was so smart and had so much potential. But he kissed the top of her head. It was comforting. Like a big brother…right? But why did she kiss him? Albeit on the cheek, but a kiss was a kiss. That had him truly stumped.

Snape left the library shortly after she did, her book in his hands. He stalked down to the dungeon, the usual sneer on his face. Why didn't he feel as miserable as his face usually implied? After the war had ended, he'd definitely felt less tense. Less like there was doom looming over him. There were nightmares of course, and sometimes he woke up screaming, only to run to the bathroom to retch into the toilet basin. But other than that, things were fine. They were back to normal, at least.

Then she had done this. Or this had happened, for he guessed that he should share some of the blame. But he had dwelled on what had happened for far too long. Exactly two minutes and four seconds since he had left the library, and now he was at the door to his rooms.

"What am I going to do?" he wondered aloud as he walked into his room.

"Do about what?" drawled a voice from the corner, and immediately Snape's wand was in his hand.

"Lucius," he drawled back, mimicking the older mans tone, "what a pleasant surprise sarcasm and displeasure thick in his voice. Why was tonight that Lucius felt the need to stop by and be very Lucius. Snape just wanted to be alone.

"I have a plan," started Lucius. Lucius always had plans. And since the Dark Lord had been defeated, his only plans involved putting his family back on top. Snape didn't have time to figure out what the plan was today, though. He just wanted Lucius to leave. So with a well placed hex, Snape made it clear exactly what he thought of Lucius' plan, even before it escaped his mouth. Lucius, for all of his flaws, at least knew how to take a hint, and disappeared through the floo.

When Snape was finally free of that minor irritation, he collapsed onto his well worn couch, and placed his head in his hands. Rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes, he tried to figure out what to do next. He had no idea. Maybe it would come to him in the morning. But he knew he wouldn't sleep tonight. Everything had been okay. Everything had been stable. But now it wasn't. How could he sleep?

Snape made his way into his bedroom, and with a wave of his wand he was prepared for bed. He crawled under the down comforter, enjoying the warmth and comfort. He sighed, regretting already how little sleep he was going to get tonight, and leaned back onto his pillow. Apparently his inner confusion was more tiring than he knew, because once his head hit the pillow he was hit by a wave of exhaustion, and he closed his eyes. His last thought before he fell asleep was the feel of her lips on his cheek, and why it gave him the most peculiar feeling in his stomach when he thought about it?


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: FINALLY! Here it is. I wrote it over the course of a couple of days and then revised it only once, so bear with me. Sorry it took so long, school's been a bit busy. I have a few plot bunnies floating around in my head for some one-shots and two decently long fics. **

**I feel like Hermione might have been a bit OOC but I'm not sure, it isn't too bad though so I hope you don't mind. She just doesn't strike me as someone who would make a first, impulsive move. **

**Review pleaseeeee! **

**I also have a Klaine fic posted if any of you are interested in that and then I also have Love Is Watching Someone Die which has a bunch of hits but no reviews and I just want some sort of feed back pleaseeeee. /shameless begging. **

**Hope you enjoy. **

**This will be the second to last chapter, hopefully everything will come together in the next chapter. Don't forget about our favorite terrible boyfriend Ron (who I ignored in this chapter because...I just did) and Lucius! **

**Thank you guys so much for reading these and everything. I really appreciate it. You are immensely wonderful! :D**

* * *

Hermione woke with a start, wondering when and how she fell asleep. The last thing she remembered was being wrought with guilt and pondering how much sleep she'd actually get that night. Apparently she'd get a decent amount, since when she looked at her watch (she wore a muggle one out of habit) she realized she'd also slept late. She'd already missed breakfast and would miss the beginning of potions if she didn't hurry. Hermione dressed quickly, threw her hair up into a artfully disheveled bun and ran down to potions, grabbing her bag on the way out. In all the hustle she didn't notice the letter at her bedside, nor the person waiting for her in the common room.

Hermione was just about to open the portrait when a hand suddenly grabbed hers. After years of being at war, she still reacted immediately and had her wand pointed at her would be attacker ready to hex - Harry? He backed away cautiously, like a scared child at the zoo.

"Hey 'Mione", he said slowly, as if she was an animal waiting to strike. "Oh Harry, I'm sorry I didn't realize it was you!" she replied hastily.

"Ron told me about your fight…" Harry began, when he was cut off by a dejected sigh from Hermione, "I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"He was pretty broken up about it, 'Mione. Did you get his letter?"

"What letter?"

"It was next to your bed…"

"Oh, I must have been in a hurry to get out", she explained, "we should still be in a hurry actually…we're gonna be late for potions."

Hermione grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him out of the room and down the corridor. Yes, Harry was her best friend, but mostly, he was Ron's best friend. And she knew that the letter would be an apology for last night, but maybe it wasn't enough anymore. And she certainly couldn't tell Harry that, or of her decision that she had yet to acknowledge she'd really made, or of her encounter with Professor Snape. Definitely not the last one. Absolutely not. Harry had gotten over his animosity towards their heroic Professor however Hermione doubted that Harry would accept her feeling anything more than respect and perhaps a twinge of gratitude towards the former, and sometimes currently, greasy git of the dungeons.

* * *

Severus Snape woke up, startled that he had slept so well. If his mind was going to be occupied by her, at least he'd get to sleep well also. Snape pondered this little nugget of information until he realized that his first thought of the day had been about her, and then his contented mood went out the window as he went about his morning ministrations angrily, throwing things just for the sake of throwing them. Why he was so enraged even he didn't know, but here he was throwing and slamming things. She was just a silly little girl who he showed a bit of heart towards, nothing to get worked up about. Right? He pondered this rational thought as he shoved his bedside reading material off his bedside table.

He didn't even think to check the clock as he got ready, until the toothpaste he threw while he was brushing his teeth (yes, he actually did brush his teeth) hit near the clock and drew his attention to it. He was late. Very, very late and if he didn't hurry he would be late for his own class. And her class. What if she thought he was avoiding her? There he went again, thinking about her. Goddamn, he repeated over in his mind as his toothbrush hit the wall next to the clock, and then so did his toothbrush holder (a green Slytherin snake that was a little to adorable for his taste anyway). Was he really this pathetically lonely that one touch from a woman would send him into a state such as this, feeling like a love sick teenager? Disgusting.

As he ran to to the classroom Snape cursed himself internally for letting himself get distracted and be late and have feelings. Mostly he was cursing the feelings part. He was so preoccupied with his thoughts that he didn't notice the students reaching the end of the corridor until he ran straight into one of them. He was suddenly on the floor, sprawled unceremoniously next to the one and only Gryffindor princess. Of course. Snape lived in a world where things like this happened to him, because a world where good things happen to him clearly doesn't exist.

"Oh no! Professor Snape, I'm so sorry, I didn't see you there!" He smirked at her obvious discomfort and overall flustered appearance. If he was going to be miserable at least he could take comfort in she at least wasn't overly chipper. And apparently she was late too.

"Please, don't worry Miss. Granger, I'm sure I'll recover just fine", he drawled enjoying the flush on her face far too much. She seemed mesmerized by him which was…peculiar in the least. He was torn between being amused and disgusted and just overall angry again yet he couldn't bring himself to tear his eyes away from her face. Their moment was disrupted by Harry Potter, the boy-that-ruins-moments. Not that Snape particularly cared about having a moment anyway.

"Um…excuse me…but…maybe we should go to class…", Harry interjected awkwardly, making a mental note to ask Hermione what that had been about. He'd never seen her so red nor had he ever seen Snape so un-scowling and hard to read.

"Of course, Potter", Snape replied, regaining his composure, "Let us go. And I'll let you go first so you're not late." Hermione and Harry spun their heads around in surprise at this, while Snape was a little surprised at himself. "Ten points from Gryffindor, each", of course, they didn't get off that easily.

As they walked in front of him, Snape let his mind wander. She truly had him stumped. Not to mention his own feelings were in torment. He had to know how he felt about her, and how she felt about him. He wasn't going to waste his time wondering about these feelings and pining over someone he might not even care about nor have feelings for him.

Lost in thought he didn't realize that he was staring at Hermione, or that she had noticed. He still didn't notice when he studied her, strictly objectively and from an artistic point of view, with an approving look from feet to head, until he met her eyes. Snape wasn't aware that he could blush, but that day both she and him realized how possible it was.

Hermione appeared lost in thought to Harry, and it was clear she wasn't saying anything. They were walking in silence when she felt eyes on her, and she turned around to see Professor Snape staring at her. He was unaware that she had noticed, and was watching her. As he looked up, her eyes met his and he turned bright red. Who knew Professor Snape could blush?

* * *

After they got in their seats, the doors slammed open, and the instructions for the day appeared on the board. "Amortentia" he began, only to be interrupted by a hand of, who else? "To answer Miss. Granger's question that I know she's bursting to ask, is yes, I know that you brewed this already however, one must remember all potions that you have brewed in the past, even one as obscure as this. This is a test. Now go to work." Her hand lowered, and she began working diligently.

Snape sat down at his desk, and opened a drawer to start grading essays that he had received yesterday and in all the excitement had forgotten to grade last night. However, when he reached into his drawer he felt something strange in his hands.

Opening the drawer further he saw that it was Miss. Granger's book from last night that he had intended to return to her. He smirked to himself, his face hidden by a wall of hair. Well, he'll find the answer he's looking for sooner than he thought.

As she worked on her potion Snape watched her, since his mind was most certaintly not on the essays he was pretending to grade, she meticulously cut the ingredients and carefully mixed them in. He knew she was brilliant, albeit annoying, but there was a difference between brilliance and talent. Until today he never realized how truly talented she was. Only when Longbottom broke something was Snape snapped out of his reverie and reminded that he had appearances to keep up.

"Five points from Gryffindor for carelessness, Longbottom" Snape snapped from his desk without looking up, the scowl that seemed to be permanently fixed upon his face appearing again. As the class came to a close he walked around the room looking at the finished potions, deducting points, and waiting for the students to bottle them so he could grade them.

Snape bent closer to inspect a Slytherin's potion when he caught a whiff of an interest scent that could only be the student's potion. He'd been avoiding this all class, even though he knew that what precisely what he was avoiding was also the true reason he made the class make the potion.

'Does it smell like Lily?' was all Snape had thought about as he roamed the class room, being careful not to get too close. And now here he was, smelling it. And it smelled…different. Different, as in not like Lily. It smelt like books and lavender and soap. Innocence and spring and…wait. It didn't smell like Lily. But it did smell like another Gryffindor that he knew.

* * *

Hermione was finishing up her potion, when her curiosity got the best of her. She poured it into the potion vial and raised it to her nose, the scent filling her nostrils. It took a moment, but when she fully realized what she was smelling, she almost fainted.

It wasn't Ron. At one point it had been, but now it smelled only of books and soap and potion ingredients. It reminded her of intelligent conversations and comfort and the color green….wait. Oh no. No, no, no. Crush, perhaps. Infatuation? Slight interest? But love? She couldn't possibly be in love with Professor Snape, could she? Apparently she could.

With wide eyes, Hermione stared at her Professor, taking in his appearance and gait. The slightly sexy way his hips swung when he walked…

"Miss Granger! I see you are a bit distracted today. This classroom is no place for day-dreaming. 10 points from Gryffindor, and please see me after class" Hermione was snapped out of her admiration by his silky voice…taking away points. She was too embarrassed to even register the injustice that she usually would have felt, and instead continued to bottle her potion to hide the blush on her cheeks.

At the end of the class the potions were delivered to the front of the room, however Hermione waited so she would be the last one. Vaguely wondering why she was staying after, she placed her potion carefully on the desk. Only after the potion was safely on the desk did she dare to look up at her professor, expecting to see anger and coldness in his onyx eyes. Instead they looked at her with curiosity, and interest.

"You wanted to speak to me Professor?" Hermione started timidly, wondering how this uncharted territory would go, especially with the new knowledge of her feelings for him. She didn't have any space left in her brain to be distraught over this fact, only confused. When did she fall in love with him? How? Was it last night? Can you love someone after one encounter? Was it a gradual thing, spurned out of her respect and admiration of his intelligence? And somewhere, deep inside a little voice was saying 'What about Ron?'. She promptly told that voice to shut up.

Hermione had been so lost in her train of thought that she didn't realize Snape had been talking to her, and was now slowly waving his hand in front of her face.

"Miss Granger?" he asked, getting her attention, "Are you okay?" Snape pulled out a chair and motioned for her to sit, "Maybe you should sit down…"

"I'm sorry Professor…I was just…" she began, trailing off before she could put her foot in her mouth, the usual result when she let words spill out of her mouth before she knew what they would be, "I was preoccupied, thinking about something" she explained "…Sir" she added for good measure.

"Miss Granger," Snape interrupted before she could continue talking herself in circles, "I have your book. It appears that you left it in the library after our encounter last night." Hermione was startled, not expecting him to be kind enough to return the book to her, and discretely as to not bring up what occurred in the library. Maybe she should bring up what happened? Oh, he was talking again…

"I hope everything is alright with you and the issue that you had last night has since been resolved" he continued, uncomfortably. He must not have much experience with this, Hermione thought to herself, before she noticed she was being ushered to the door. Snape started to speak to her, "I'll see you in class tomorrow" he started, as he all but shoved her awkwardly out the door. "Professor…", how was she going to say this? 'I love you, do you love me?' 'What happened last night?' 'Is there something between us?'.

Instead of saying anything Hermione took a deep breath and looked up at him. Both of their hands were on her book, and they were standing close to each other. She put her other hand on top of his and took another step towards him, closing the already small gap between them. She feared that if she opened her mouth to talk nothing would come out and she would stand there, gaping at him like a fish. Instead she stared at him, not realizing how attractive he really was until this moment. She pushed up on her toes, and suddenly their faces were merely a hair's width apart.

She was close enough for him to kiss her, which surely must have been her intention. Snape was in shock. No one had voluntarily kissed him or put herself in that position since he was a student himself, and yet, here Hermione was putting herself at his mercy. He could turn away in disgust and hope to bury his feelings and everything else, just ignore it all, ignore her. But the war was over, and he didn't have to worry about those that got close to him anymore. She deserved to not be torn apart by yet another man in her life. So he took the leap, as minute as it seemed to move his face forward not even half an inch.

He pressed his lips against hers in a chaste kiss, even though for all he knew it could have been her that closed the final gap between them. The kiss deepened and he grasped her cheek, marveling in how truly wonderful this felt. They broke apart after what seemed like either eternity or a fleeting moment, he couldn't distinguish between the two at this moment. When he opened his eyes, hers were still closed, and he ran his finger across her closed eyelid, her beautiful eyelashes fanned out on her porcelain skin. Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled a small smile, looking at him lovingly and purely unguarded. Suddenly she turned red, her emotions clear on her face, of confusion and shame and unknowing.

"I'm sorry Professor" she said quietly, before she turned and fled from his room, up to the common room. Snape was left in the classroom feeling alone and confused and shocked. He slowly sat down at his desk, trying to wrap his mind around what had happened and how somewhere between her touching his hand and fleeing his room he'd stopped thinking of her as Miss Granger and began thinking of her as Hermione.

And at the same time, unbeknownst to him, she was pondering how he was no longer Professor, or Snape, but instead he was Severus.


End file.
